


E Malama (To Protect)

by fiction_in_my_veins



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Hawaii Five-0 (2010) RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alpha Steve McGarrett, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Steve McGarrett, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Steve McGarrett & Danny "Danno" Williams Friendship, Supportive Danny "Danno" Williams, Whump, Work In Progress, Worried Steve McGarrett
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2020-06-24 07:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19718809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiction_in_my_veins/pseuds/fiction_in_my_veins
Summary: You, Steve McGarrett's neighbour and best friend go for an early morning walk, when you hear some strange noises from inside an abandoned warehouse. You decide to check it out and are dragged in and captured by a notorious drug cartel and end up  getting caught in the cross hairs of a raid conducted by the Five-0 in that very warehouse.In those dark and desperate times, you have nothing but hope to cling on to.This series follows your rescue and how an adverse event pushes two friends together, forcing them to explore their feelings for each other in a slow burn tale of fluff and angst.





	1. Rule Number One: Don't Enter Abandoned Warehouses

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is my first time writing anything even remotely action-based. I would love any feedback on that.  
> I recently discovered the glory of Hawaii Five-0 and here I am pushing all the feels into words.

Entering any empty building alone is universally considered a bad idea. It’s monumentally dumb if you enter a building where drugs and cash are changing hands. Two men in gold chains and shabby clothes watched a tough- looking haole drag you in by your arms.

“Pretty little girls shouldn’t interrupt drug meetings, should they now?”, said the taller of the two men. 

He probably owned the turf and was trying to demonstrate his power and control over it.

He looked at the man holding you and said, “Stash her in the back, we’ll celebrate later.”

Grabbing you by a fistful of hair, he threw you in a room. You fell face first into a stack of wooden crates. Splinters puncture the skin on your hands as you used them to cushion your fall.

He stood guard over you, his gun poking out from under his shirt. You winced and sat cross-legged on the floor, sweeping the room with your eyes. An opportunity, a weapon, a distraction, you could have used anything at that point. 

Your guard turned to glance through the door and check out the deal and you took the opportunity to hide a sharp wooden slate behind your back. 

He turned all his attention to you and smiled, giving you a view of his gold enamel front teeth.

“The things we’ll do to you tonight. By the time we’re done with you, you won’t even remember your own name,” he said.

You fought the shudder passing through your body and did your best to keep your face free from the fear you felt.

You stood up and pretended to stretch.

“Hey, sit your ass back down,” he said inching closer to you.

“I am cramping up, man. Give me a minute.”

He stomped over to you and whipped the butt of his gun on your head and your legs gave out under you due to the sheer force.

“How’s that for cramping up,” he said with a cackle.

A shooting pain hijacked your head and you blinked back unwelcome tears. You scrambled backwards and touched the tender skin on your forehead with your fingertips. 

That would leave a nasty bruise for a while, you thought to yourself, provided you left this place alive.

You heard commotion outside. Shuffling feet, yelled orders and clicking of weapons. You peaked out from your corner and saw smoke filling up the warehouse. Your guard pulled out his gun and walked to the door. Ignoring the pain, you got into position, the wooden slate in your hands, waiting for the correct opportunity. 

A loud boom shook the old metal building and you jumped onto his back, lodging the jagged wooden end into the soft tissue below his shoulder. 

His scream filled up the tiny backroom but thankfully didn’t attract any attention from the other goons. 

Loud screams and machine gun fire filled the air as you dove back inside the room for cover. Footsteps scurried all over the hard stone floors and the army of men kept getting shot and dropping to the ground.

Adrenaline spiked your blood and you decided to make yet another stupid decision, albeit this one was either going to get you killed or lead you to freedom. Completely ignoring the guard standing a few feet away from you, you make a run towards the door. The few feet between you and the door seemed more like miles. Your foot pounded the floor and you knew beyond this door the real struggle would start. Nobody wants to get caught in the middle of a drug war, but you really had no choice. 

A renewed round of enthusiastic firing began and stray bullets hit the doorframe of the room you were in. You changed your mind and ran back inside and dove behind a couple of barrels stashed at the end of the room. You curled up into yourself and shut your eyes, effectively trying to shut out the world around you.

The arms bearer seemed to move closer to the backroom and a lot of hurried orders were yelled. The sound of your heartbeat saturated your mind and you couldn’t make out any words between them. 

The room felt cold all of a sudden, the fight leaving your body. You felt an uncontrollable sob bubble up and you bit into your palm to keep the noise in. As your sense of impending doom increased, a stray bullet took out the lightbulb hanging in your room, plunging you into deathly darkness. A whimper threatened to exit your throat, but you swallowed it down along with the terror creeping up.

The gunmen were seemed closer and the next round of firing seemed like it was happening on the other side of the wooden barrels. Hot tears ran down your cheeks and silent sobs wracked your body as the body of your guard hit the floor.

Is this the last thing you’re going to see before you die?

Is the last human you had any sort of interaction with dead?

You shut your eyes in denial and tried transporting yourself to happy places. 

Surfing with Steve.

Dressing up with Gracie.

Cooking “Mainland Food” for Danno.

Your shoulders were shaking with tremours you didn’t even register. You wrapped your arms around your body and tucked yourself smaller, looking for warmth which you knew was never coming.

A gloved hand landed on your shoulder and you screamed, expelling all the air in your lung in one go. You held your arms out in front of ready to scratch out the eyes of your attacker, if he dared to come any closer.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re Five-0. You’re okay,” a strong, male voice said.

You lowered your hands, but refused to open your eyes, not ready to allow the world in again.

“Y/N ?”

Your eyes fluttered open at the mention of your name and there in front of you was the person you wanted to see the most, your happy place.

Steve McGarrett.

“Steve? Oh my God, Steve,” you said and buried yourself in his arms. 

Relief washed over you, reaching your soul through every single pore.

He tightened his arms around you and he patted your hair.

“Shhh. It’s okay now, Y/N, you’re safe now. You’re with us, they can’t hurt you anymore,” Steve said and you nodded into his combat vest.

“Come on, let’s get you out of this dump,” he said.

You tried to stand up, Steve’s supporting hand on your waist, but a shot of pain radiating from your general left.

“Umm, Steve, there’s something wrong with my body,” you said, afraid to look down and locate the source of the pain.

“You are bleeding.” Confusion coated his features when he saw your clothes blood-stained.

“Shit. Y/N, you’ve been shot,” he said in horror as he rolled up your t-shirt and saw a bullet lodged above your hipbone.

“What? How could I not notice something like that?”

He held up a finger as he called for an ambulance to the location.

“No you’re being ridiculous McGarrett, I can walk out of this place without you pulling out these stunts,” you said and tried to stand up. The barrels provided a little support but the searing pain immobilized you.

“Stop this. You’re just hurting yourself,” he said.

“And you are treating me like a victim,” you rebutted.

“You are a victim right now. Please, this one time, let me do my thing,” he said.

He sounded sad and you hated that. 

So, you nodded, allowing him to help you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he lifted you up bridal style, your wounded side away from his body.

“Steve,” you whispered.

“Hang on for a second, we’re almost there,” he said, refusing to slow down till he could take you to the paramedics.

“I am so tired Stevie, I don’t want to be awake anymore.”

“No. No, Y/N, listen to me. Baby, please, stay with me.”

Bright sunlight hit your face and a little bit of energy seeped back into your tired bones.

The world rushed in to greet your senses.

A flash of sirens. 

A rush of human noises. Some scared, some authoritative.

Various voices calling out your name.

Hands arranging your body on a stretcher.

Steve’s worried face.

And finally, darkness and silence.


	2. Rule Number Two: Don't Hide Things From Your Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N wakes up in the hospital after getting shot in a gang vs Five-0 shoot out. Steve is really shaken up by the whole incident. To make things worse, Y/N doesn’t remember anything about what happened in the shootout, leaving a hole in her memory. Fluff and an emotional McGarrett.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of bullets, mention of blood and mild discussion of medical procedures.

You woke up to the sound of shuffling feet and a muffled yawn. Opening your eyes was quite the task. You blinked a few times, your pupils adjusting to the soft, yellow lights in the room. You struggled to remember where you were, your thoughts constantly being interrupted by a faint, incessant beeping.  
You turned to the side to see more of your surrounding because the sight of a well-lit yet non-descriptive ceiling was not very helpful.  
A wide array of machines and an IV drip were attached to your arm and you tried to speak up. You realized how parched you were and how your tongue lay awkwardly yet very noticeably in your mouth.  
You tried to sit up and the rustling sheets alerted the yawner who entered your field of vision.  
Steve.  
With the lights directly overhead, his features were cast with a shadow, yet the curve of his nose, the depth of his eyes and his incredible mouth were hard to miss.  
You stuck your gaze to his moving lips, not registering the words he was saying. You closed your eyes again for a few seconds and a warm hand touched your arm. You opened your eyes and Steve visibly sighed in relief.  
“Y/N? Can you hear me? It’s me Steve.”  
You tried laughing but end up in a fit of cough.  
Why was he telling you his name? Of course you knew who he was.  
Steve McGarrett.  
The man who lived across the street.  
One of your closest friends.  
The man who let you sleep on his hammock whenever you were upset because the waves calmed you.  
The man who tormented you every week to make your three-cheese lasagna but would act like a petulant child whenever you made it for other guests.  
The one person who absolutely mandatory in your life.  
A lady in blue scrubs appeared with a cup of water and you sipped it in haste, quite a few drops spilling on your chest.  
“Would you like another cup, dear?”  
You nodded eagerly.  
She left and a girl in a white coat took her spot.  
You were confused. What was all this commotion about? Why was Steve looking so disheveled? Why was there so much medical equipment in the room? Why were you hooked to an IV drip? What was this residual grogginess in your system?  
“Hello, Y/N. I am Dr. Curtis. You gave us quite the scare, but don’t worry, you’re better now. The bullet didn’t touch any organs, but there was a significant loss of blood. There’s no major damage to the muscles, nothing a few sessions of physio can’t fix. We were a little worried about the head injuries. Thankfully, they are just surface injuries. We ran a few tests to be sure and I will be giving you another head scan just to be sure. Just a little warning, you are quite bruised, I don’t want you to suddenly freak out when you catch a glimpse of them. Any questions?”  
“Yes, I do have questions. Respectfully, Dr. Curtis, what the actual fuck happened here?”  
Steve stepped near the bed. “Dr. Curtis, I’ll take over from here, if you don’t mind”, he said in a soft voice.  
“Of course, but remember to look after yourself too. Y/N, you have an excellent friend here. He hasn’t left since they brought you here.”  
She left with a smile and a promise of another panel of tests, leaving you and Steve alone.  
“Hey.”  
Steve smirked and shook his head.  
“Hey, Y/N.”  
“Fancy seeing you here. Come here often?”  
Steve laughed and sat down beside your bed.  
“How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?”  
“I feel okay I guess,” you said. “Nothing hurts thanks to the magic coursing through these tubes.”  
“I was really worried, Y/N,” he said and hesitantly touched your cheek with his fingertips.  
You pressed your face into his palm, taking away his hesitation, telling him that it was okay. You weren’t fragile and you knew he was worried and vulnerable and that you were there for him.  
“Stevey?”  
He cleared his throat and looked at you.  
“Do you think you could tell me what happened? How did I land up in a hospital? Why are the doctors talking about bruises and bullets? You don’t have to tell me right away, not until you’re okay talking about it.”  
A sad smile played across his lips. “You’re the one who is injured and you want to know if I am okay? That’s typical you.”  
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then opened them again.  
“Yes, I will tell you what happened, but there is a certain part of the story that even I am not aware of. Five- 0 was planning to raid a few warehouses that were notorious for drug deals and arms sales. It was more of an ambush, really. We were hitting them hard and fast, working with a small but highly skilled team to prevent any leaks. We reached our last target, the warehouse at the corner of Makalena street. During the raid,” he stopped, struggling with himself to continue. He knew you deserved answers and that pushed him to speak. “Somebody yelled that a girl was behind a few barrels and that’s where I found you. Bruised and battered, but thankfully in one piece. You refused to cooperate for a few seconds, but then you saw it was me. That’s when I noticed that you were bleeding. You lost consciousness soon after.”  
Steve was gripping your hand in his. He wasn’t there in the hospital room with you; he was reliving the horror of you passing out in his arms, your blood spilling everywhere. A single tear spilled from his left eye and he quickly wiped that away, coming back to reality.  
You rubbed his hand with your free hand.  
“Stevey, you know damn well I can’t get up from this thing. Get in here and give me a hug or so help me God,” you said with fake annoyance.  
He took the opportunity to lean over you and give you a feather-light hug, careful not to touch any part of your mid-section. You tilted your head and placed a kiss on his cheek. “It’s going to take more than a random bullet to put me down and you damn well know that.”  
He kissed your forehead and returned to his seat.  
“Trust me, I know,” he said, his eyes finally losing some of their glumness.  
“So that was the whole story? I mean you said you didn’t know certain things?”  
“Well, yes. I don’t know how you got into the warehouse in the first place.And what happened before we came into the picture? What’s the last thing you remember?”  
“Now that you mention it, there’s a blank in my memory, I guess. I remember getting dressed to go for a run and nothing after that.”  
You were panicking on the inside. How could you not remember anything? Was your head injury actually that bad? Should you tell Steve that you were freaking out?  
No, that would just freak him out and then that would in turn freak you out more. It would be a hellish cycle.  
You forced yourself to think positive.  
“Let’s talk to Dr. Curtis and see what she has to say about this,” you said offering an encouraging smile.  
“Yes. In the meantime, don’t think too much about it.”  
“So when I can I go home? Why aren’t you at work? Doesn’t the team need you?”  
He gave you an incredibly offended look.  
“Y/N, what makes you think I would be at work while you were bleeding out on a metal table?”  
You rolled your eyes at his words.  
“You can leave when Dr. Curtis clears you, after all the tests are done and there are no red flags in your reports.”  
The voice belonged to the friendly nurse from before, who had returned with a full pitcher of water.  
“I am Megan. Sorry, I didn’t come in earlier, I didn’t want to interrupt a moment,” she said with mirth dancing across her eyes.  
She handed you another cup of water.  
“I can’t wait to go back home, I miss my bed. And shower. Oh, I miss pancakes,” you said, bringing the cup to your lips.  
“Well, that’s not happening. You’re coming home with me and you’re staying there till you get all better. End of discussion,” Steve said and stepped out of room to take a call.  
Oh boy, now this you hadn’t anticipated.  
You locked eyes with Megan and she gave you a quick wink, and your cheeks instantly grew warmer.  
You couldn’t wait to see how this would turn out.


End file.
